Dog Bites and Bee Stings
by potidaea
Summary: emily's past comes back to haunt her, femslash, emily/JJ


The alarm clock sounded throughout her bedroom, clearly telling her it was time to get up, but the agent chose to ignore the fact, hitting the snooze button.

It was 5:30 in the morning, and someone kept her awake all night—not that she minded the blonde woman's aptitude in persuading her to do anything, including convincing her jet-lagged self to stay up practically all night.

After JJ had showered, she went over to the brunette's side of the bed, "Em, baby, time to wake up."

She groaned, "Five more minutes."

"Sorry, I can't let you sleep any longer. I already gave you fifteen minutes."

"JJ…"

"Hmm?"

"Not getting up."

"Don't make me start singing." She said in a sing-song voice.

"Go right ahead."

She smirked, "She climbs a tree and scrapes her knee; her dress has got a tear. She waltzes on her way to mass and whistles on the stair, and underneath her wimple, she has curlers in her hair! Maria's not an asset to the abbey. She's always late for chapel, but her penitence is real. She's always late for everything, except for every meal. I hate to have to say it, but I very firmly feel; Maria's not an asset to the abbey! I'd like to say a word on her behalf. Maria makes me laugh!" Her girlfriend threw a pillow at her, so she began laughing, true to the song. "How do you solve a problem like Maria? How do you catch a cloud and pin it down? How do you find a word that means Maria? A flibberti gibbet! A willo' the wisp! A clown! Many a thing you know you'd like to tell her, many a thing she ought to understand, but how do you make her stay, and listen to all you say, how do you keep a wave upon the sand? Oh, how do you—"

"Fine! I'm getting up now!"

The blonde just laughed; she'd made her girlfriend—a ' the Sound of Music virgin,' as she'd pegged her—watch 'The Sound of Music,' her all-time favorite movie, on the plane ride home, and the brunette criticized the entire song.

As she heard the bathroom door close, she yelled, "You know you love me!"

And then in reply, "You're lucky I do, Jareau!"

Eventually, they walked through the doors at the BAU, greeted by Garcia, "Hey, ladies."

The woman was greeted by two drastically different emotions, one very happy, the other, out to kill. She looked to the other blonde with curiosity.

"Ignore her, she's just grumpy."

"Not grumpy; tired."

As JJ walked with Garcia, Emily going to her desk, she turned around a yelled, "Would you rather be tired or celibate?"

Smirking, "I'm getting the feeling you'd like to be celibate!"

As their co-workers laughed, JJ said, "You're a horrible person, Emily Prentiss!"

Her only reply was a raised eyebrow.

"You hate 'The Sound of Music'!"

They just looked at each other for a minute, the room silent, the laughing having ceased.

Emily was the first to crack, a smile slowly appearing on her face, JJ soon following with laughter, the brunette joining her.

Soon thereafter, JJ called the team into the conference room.

She pulled up three pictures, each of a woman in her thirties.

"Michelle Peterson in New York, age 35, Rachel Ackley in Maine, age 32, Heather Jacobs in Massachusetts, age 36. Each were found in abandoned warehouses, looking as if they'd slit their wrists. Rachel Ackley's arms had 'you're next' cut into them, Michelle Peterson had an 'I' on one arm, and an 'L' on the other, Heather Jacobs' had an 'E' and an 'M.'"

"Any connection between the three?"

"Each filed a lawsuit against one Tyler McKenzie when they were in high school; he was registered as a sex offender after Heather Jacobs' case." She said, pulling up a picture.

"Does it say what happened with each before the case?"

"He contacted them online, posing as a 16 year old girl, formed relationships with them."

JJ was no profiler, but she could tell Emily was both nervous and scared beyond belief.

Emily swallowed, "Does it say what usernames the guy used? Any conversations between him and the victims?"

She handed the papers over to Emily, watching her reaction carefully.

The brunette read the usernames carefully; all were similar, each female name he used similar, to be sure he never forgot. Taylor. Tyler. Tylee. She then looked to the conversations, each one had a similar style, same words, same font, same everything.

Hotch looked towards his co-worker, "Prentiss, everything okay? Do you know something?"

"The UnSub gets a sick type of validation when the vics called him out on what he did. He's doing this because someone didn't…didn't acknowledge the fact that he did such a thing."

"How're we supposed to find this person? I mean, it isn't exactly a small population."

"Do you not see it?" She then flipped over a piece of paper that she'd been looking at; writing out what the message clearly was to her.

Derek spoke first, "So, it says, 'you're next emil.'"

"Honestly? You don't see it?"

All of them looked to her, confused.

"_I'm_ next. He wants to know why."

With that, she left the room, leaving JJ looking torn.

Hotch looked to her, smiling lightly, "You can go after her."

JJ found Emily sitting in her office, crying.

"Sweetie…"

"It's my fault."

"No it's not."

"JJ, if I reported him, those three women would be alive right now!"

"You don't know that."

"I do!"

"Emily, honey, if it wasn't you, it'd be someone else sitting here right now, and, you know what, the fact that you could give us that information in there just now, tells us who the killer is."

"We wouldn't need to get that information if I just reported him on my own!"

"On your own?"

"You think Ambassador Prentiss wanted everyone to know that her daughter, on top of being gay, was stupid enough to trust a complete stranger with all of that information about herself?"

Upon hearing that bit of information, JJ texted Morgan to come into her office and sit with Emily, for her safety. As soon as he arrived, she told Emily she'd be back soon, and left her office to go have a 'chat' with the ambassador.

"Hey, Hotch, could you give me Ambassador Prentiss' number?"

He looked at her skeptically.

"It's in regards to the case."

He was still unsure, but gave the number anyway, knowing that the younger agent would find it on her own if he didn't give it to her.

"You can use my office if you need to."

"Thank you."

She quickly went to his office, dialing as fast as she could.

"Office of Ambassador Prentiss, how can I help you?"

"This is Special Agent Jareau with the FBI; may I please speak to Ms. Prentiss?"

"What is this regarding?"

"A case we're currently working on."

"What about the case?"

"It's a murder investigation, ma'am, I'm sure you can understand that I'm not able to give such details."

"Hold on one moment, I'll put her on."

After a minute, the older woman picked up the phone.

"Agent Jareau, how can—"

"How can you help me?_ Me_? _Honestly_? I believe the correct question is how can you help your daughter! How old was she? Fifteen? Sixteen?"

"Excuse me?"

"Tyler McKenzie. Does that ring any bells? Or did you not even have the decency to find out who he was?"

"You have no right to speak to me like that, Miss Jareau."

"No, actually, I do, _Elizabeth_. Three women are dead because you were too worried about image to report the bastard!"

"You're blaming me for the actions of a serial killer?"

"Yes, I am. You want to know what he carved into their arms?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Rachel Ackley's arms had 'you're next' cut into them, Heather Jacobs' had an 'E' and an 'M,' " Michelle Peterson had an 'I' on one arm, and an 'L' on the other. I trust you can spell."

"That doesn't mean anything!"

"Emil? No, Emil means nothing. He saved the 'Y,' because he gets a kick out of the recognition of how sick he is, and you didn't give that to him. Your political bullshit deprived him of that, so now three women are dead, and he wants your daughter's blood on his hands next, and he wants to know why no one ever persecuted him for what he did to Emily."

"You don't know that!"

"I don't know that? _Really_? I know the look on your daughter's face as she sat in the conference room, putting it all together in her head, as the rest of us were clueless! I know what it looked like as she ran out of the room after telling us just who was next! I know the look on her face as she told me that she should've just reported him on her own, because you were too wrapped up in yourself to care about your daughter!" As tears began to stream down her face, her voice went back down to normal volume, "And I _know_ what it feels like to watch someone you love blame themselves for something they have no control over. She blames herself for the death of three women, because you just don't give a shit about your daughter. You didn't, and still don't, care enough about her to be there for her."

And with that, she hung up.

No more than two hours later, Garcia saw a strangely familiar woman walk into the BAU. That strange familiarity was because one of her best friends was the daughter of such a woman.

Garcia had cameras in every room in the BAU, so she was well aware of the fact that the ambassador was not welcome anywhere near JJ or Emily at the moment.

Quickly picking up the phone, she called Morgan.

"Hey, baby girl."

"Derek, major SOS at the moment, see that woman walking over to Emily's desk?"

"Yeah, what about her?"

"Go guard JJ's office. Under no circumstances does she enter."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You're a god, sexy."

"For every god there is a goddess."

And with that, he hung up, making his way to the doorway of the press liaison's office.

She walked up to him, "Excuse me, could you tell me where my daughter is?"

He gave her the best confused look he could muster.

"Emily Prentiss."

"Oh, sorry, no. I think she went home."

Just as he replied, Reid walked past, "I thought she was still in JJ's office?"

"Kid, have you been here for the past few hours?"

"Yeah, I was at my desk."

The ambassador spoke up, "So, my daughter's in there?"

"I can't answer that question, I'm under strict orders."

"Give by whom?"

"Supervisory Special Agent Penelope Garcia"

"And where exactly can I find her?"

"Right here." Said the kind voice.

"You expect me to believe that _she_ works for the FBI?"

"You want to see my credentials?"

"Please."

As she showed the woman her badge, Aaron Hotchner walked up, "Morgan, what's going on?"

"I was given strict orders, by Garcia, to not let this woman past me, and into this office."

"Honestly, you expect me to believe that this woman is your boss?"

"Yes, actually, because she is."

Before Reid could speak up, Garcia said, "Reid, I know you have a lot of paperwork, why don't you go work on that?"

He nodded with a smile, "Will do."

The ambassador nodded her head, accepting their story, finally believing.

Meanwhile, in the blonde's office, Emily was asleep, but JJ was listening to her friends' voices as they stopped the woman from entering her office. The smile that had formed on her face as she rested her head in the crook of the other woman's neck soon disappeared when she opened her eyes at the sound of foot steps.

She knew who it was as she looked up. She'd stared at that picture in the folder for over an hour before she showed the case to Hotch.

"_Aw, so cute_. She was so easy to take advantage of back then, I guess that didn't change. This will be so easy. Easier than the others, at least." He spoke, toying with the gun in his hand.

The agent quickly pulled her own gun out of its holster.

"I know your gun's not loaded, you son of a bitch." With one movement of her finger, she shot his hand, making him drop the gun, and then getting up off the couch placed in her office, cuffing him as Morgan, Hotch, and Garcia entered the room.

"You think I'd kill you?" She laughed, giving a painful squeeze to his hand, "I want you to suffer in prison, you prick."

As soon as she handed McKenzie over to Hotch, she ran over to Emily as Garcia and Morgan block the older woman from her daughter.

"Em, baby, its okay. He's gone."

"Dead?"

"No, but his hand probably hurts like a bitch."

"I'm so sorry, Jennifer."

"Its okay, I have to admit, I was pleased to shoot him and arrest him, and maybe, just maybe, put a little bit of pressure on said wound."

Emily laughed, but soon stopped at the realization, "He was trying to kill me, JJ."

"But he didn't, that's what matters."

"How'd he get into the building?"

"I fell asleep for a few minutes a while ago, so maybe the window?"

"What kind of _idiot_ tries to kidnap a federal agent from a building filled with federal agents?"

"Key word is idiot, Emily."

Emily looked up at JJ, tears forming in her eyes, "Jennifer…"

"Cm'ere, baby."

As Emily buried her head into her shoulder, JJ looked up to Garcia, and mouthed the word 'Maria' to her. Garcia smiled, and quickly went over to her friend's computer. Soon enough, the song began playing, getting a smile out of the crying woman.

JJ leaned back, "Is that a _smile?_ A _real _smile? Is Emily Prentiss smiling at this '_completely irrational_' song? What do you think, Garcia?"

"I see a smile."

"I'm smiling at how ridiculous you are."

"Excuse me, but you're a flibberti gibbet."

"You didn't!"

"I did."

The brunette smiled at her girlfriend, "You're amazing."

"As if you didn't know already."

"No jokes. Someone just tried to kill me, and possibly you, but you're making me laugh. You _saved_ me, JJ."

"And I'd do it again, and after that, again."

"You're insane, Miss Jareau."

"That'll be the day."

Emily laughed, "That doesn't even make any sense."

"I apologize."

"I think I can forgive you."

"You_ think_?"

"I think."

"Therefore you are?"

Emily giggled, yes, giggled.

It was quite strange to all others who occupied sans JJ.

"Therefore you need help."

"I take it back, next time crazy people come to get you; you're on your own."

"Oh, no. No backsies."

Morgan smiled at his friends, "Did you two take something before work this morning?"

Answering in unison, "She forgot her medicine." And then came the laughter.

"The sad thing is; JJ actually forgot her medicine."

"Excuse me, but those are vitamins, thank you very much."

"Whatever you say, Jayj."

"Is this gang up on JJ day? 'Cause I'm not really liking it."

Hotch nodded towards Garcia, mouthing the word 'home' to her, letting her know it was okay, still in her role as boss.

"You two should go home."

Emily was about to say something, but Morgan spoke.

"Emily, I know you love work, but when the boss says go home, you _go home_."

The two women went home, exhausted, but content. On their way to their bedroom, JJ grabbed Emily's all-time favorite movie, 'The Searchers.' The least she could do for her to make up for the torture of hearing 'Maria' so many times. They'd talk about Emily's omission of her 'ex-girlfriend' in the morning, she had the feeling they'd be talking about JJ's heroism, too; Emily wasn't too happy with the danger the blonde had thrown herself into. Both women were just glad to have the other lying next to them, alive, and as lovely as ever.


End file.
